Desk
by Fanwoman
Summary: Diana returns from Spain to find everything has changed, and not for the better...worst of all, she never knew about any of it. Although not warm and fuzzy, it is DianaMarco. Ben fans beware!
1. Chapter 1

SPOILERS: through season three 

NOTES: Okay, so maybe it's a bit delusional to hope for, but _someone_ has to be Tom's partner while Diana's away. Regardless, I really think it makes sense, and my muses have been quite taken with the idea. They insisted on this desk scene, but it evolved beyond that because, after all, the one whose life Diana impacted the most with her departure was Tom. I'll do my best to finish this before season four starts. _Please, no mention of spoilers in reviews. _

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

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DESK, PART 1

HOMECOMING

In some ways, it was like coming home, but, as of late, not even home felt like home. It was as though everything had changed, as though all the emotions she'd used to have had been wiped clean. She felt as if she was having to relearn the significance of things through the gauzy filter of Ben's love, like wearing a pair of warm, fuzzy mittens that didn't let you feel the world directly.

It was familiar yet odd, being back at NTAC. After leaving during the beginning of a major crisis, she hadn't been expecting to be greeted with fanfare, but neither had she expected to be unable to park in the underground garage. Apparently, the codes had been changed in her absence. So she parked in the guest lot and came through the front door. With a modest amount of fuss, they eventually let her pass.

Nina wasn't there, and Diana didn't recognize half of the few people she saw on the main level, none of whom gave her more than a nod. The door to the office she shared with Tom was open, and light shone through the mostly closed blinds. Although she hadn't talked to Tom since her departure from Seattle, she figured he, at least, would be happy to see her.

Diana paused in the doorway. Tom wasn't there, and she was a bit shocked to find someone at her desk. It shouldn't have startled her. Just as she'd had other partners while Tom had been stuck in a desk job two years earlier, it only made sense Tom would have found a substitute partner while she was away. Even so, it was innately disturbing, as though this man were violating her psyche as well as her space.

There was something familiar about him. Typing diligently on his keyboard, his monitor was angled so that he was turned away, and she couldn't get a good look at his face. He wore a well-fitted suit, and his posture was comfortable but professional. She might have thought it was Garrity, had he grown a beard, but this man wore glasses, and his curly, black hair caused some distant part of her memory to stir muddled emotions. Uncertain, she knocked on the doorframe.

He continued typing but responded with a polite, "Give me a moment, and I'll be right with you." The slight roughness of his voice caused something inside her to shift, as though the world had suddenly changed the tilt of its axis.

"What are you doing at my desk?" She hadn't intended it, but her words came out with a harsh, accusatory tone.

At that, he stopped typing and turned slowly to face her. Placing his arms on the rests, he leaned back in the chair, as though consciously trying to be open and non-threatening, though the gesture exposed the shoulder holster he was wearing. Even after six years, she was still not comfortable with carrying a gun. It boggled her mind that, in half a year, Marco had grown so accustomed to one that he wore it while doing deskwork.

"Actually...this is _my_ desk." He said it mildly and calmly, as though there had been no emotion in her words, the first she'd spoken to him since he'd uncovered the location of Collier's hideout near the Sound. "Is there something I can help you with?" There was no inquiry into how she was or about her trip--though she only then realized she had never told him she was leaving, had never said goodbye. He spoke to her with a polite indifference, like she was practically a stranger. More than that, there was no warmth or concern in his eyes. It wasn't that his expression was cold, but where once his gaze had held inviting depths, now she couldn't see past the surface, which offered no hint of the emotions that might lurk below. As though adding an exclamation mark to the list of profound changes in him, his left cheek bore a long scar that disappeared into his tidy beard.

"I..." It was too much to take in, and she found herself flustered. "_You're_ Tom's substitute partner?"

If the incredulity in her voice bothered him, it didn't show. "No...I _am_ his partner." Marco tilted his head, brows drawing subtly together. "I don't understand why you seem so surprised."

"How could I _not_ be?"

His brow furrowed further. "Because Tom and Nina kept you informed via email and you've had months to respond to this?" There was no sarcasm in his tone; he seemed sincerely puzzled.

"What?" She vaguely remembered some subject lines concerning position changes, but she didn't remember reading about Tom getting a new partner.

"Look," he spread his hands in a placating manner, "if you've changed your mind, maybe you should bring it up with Nina. She'll be back tomorrow." It was as though she were a distraction or an irrationally disgruntled employee, one he wished would leave so he could get back to work. A year ago, he would have drawn out a conversation with her as long as she'd have allowed.

Again, the change in him diverted her attention from the content of his words. Belatedly, she wondered, "Change my mind about what?"

"Resigning your field agent status." Clasping his hands, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "With all you've been through, it's understandable. If I had an eleven-year-old, I probably would, too." It was the first personal comment he'd made, but its sympathy was overshadowed by the impact of his initial remark.

"_Resign my field agent status?_" She said it with unfettered vehemence and noticed Marco make eye contact and shake his head at someone behind her. Swinging around, she saw several people in the main room staring at her with looks ranging from worry to animosity. Ignoring them, she turned back to the man at her desk. "When the hell did I resign my field agent status?"

Apparently giving up his attempt at understanding, Marco leaned back, again, returning to polite indifference. "I don't know. I never received any email about it from you or anyone else." It might have been a guilt-inducing statement, a painful reminder of how completely she'd cut him out of her life since the Blink incident, but he said it in such a way as to distance himself from the whole topic. He wasn't involved and didn't want to be.

He was right, of course. It wasn't as though she should expect him to know something like that, but what he _did_ seem to know made no sense. She would have remembered resigning her field agent status.

Just as she was about to demand more information from him, his watch beeped. Glancing at it, he sighed and shut it off, then distractedly closed down his computer and collected some papers on his desk. "I'm sorry you seem upset with this decision. I can't do anything about it, and I have an interview to conduct. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going." With that, he walked past her, forcing her to move out of his way.

She grabbed his arm to stop him. "Where's Tom?"

His gaze weighed heavily on the place where she touched him, and she could feel a tension work through his arm, as though he was restraining himself from some automatic, physical response. Then his brow smoothed, and he met her eyes. "He's in the medical wing."

"Is he hurt?"

Marco shook his head. "He's with Shawn."

"Shawn? God, is he still here?"

Like the flash of a fish in deep waters, she finally saw a glimmer of true emotion in his eyes; it was contempt. "Yes, he is." With an impatient jerk, Marco pulled his arm free. "Goodbye, Diana." And, with that, he walked briskly away.

Stunned by his unspoken reproof and dismissive departure, she watched him until he turned a corner and out of sight. Even when she had ended their relationship, he had never reacted to her negatively. That he did so now caused a confusing combination of feelings to rise within her--regret and indignation, mystification and a disquieting desire to not know what had changed him, as well as an odd longing for the comforting friendship they'd once shared, which warred irrationally with her instinctive devotion to Ben.

Sensing eyes upon her, Diana turned to catch a couple of people glancing hastily away. It wasn't just Marco. While she'd never been particularly sociable, not one person had greeted her with a friendly smile or comment. Whatever had happened, Tom was her best hope for answers.

Once she arrived in the medical wing, it didn't take long to find out where Tom was. Despite the brief distance from the office to Shawn's room, Diana was so agitated by the time she arrived that she burst in without preamble. "What the hell is going on?"

Tom had been flexing his unconscious nephew's leg, presumably as a part of some exercise, and nearly dropped the limb in surprise. "Diana?" He smiled a weary but friendly smile as he tucked Shawn's leg under the bedcovers. "When did you get back?"

"Over the weekend." She glanced about the room, absently noting various personal effects that gave a vague sense of homey comfort. "Look, something weird is happening."

"Weird? Weird how?" His eyes widened. "Is Maia okay?"

"She's fine." Diana waved his concern for her daughter away as she paced, trying to coordinate her thoughts. What came out, with disbelieving disdain, was, "You chose _Marco_ as your partner?"

A disapproving frown crossed his brow. "Why _not_ Marco? I needed someone I could trust who could give me the kind of ideas and perspectives _you_ would."

"So you trust him?"

"Why the hell wouldn't I?" He blinked at her in confusion.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she began pacing, again. "I didn't resign my field agent status, Tom. I didn't know about any of the things that have been happening here. The only explanation is that someone tampered with my email, probably Marco."

"_WHAT?_ How can you say a thing like that?" Head shaking in disgust, he sighed. "If you had any idea what he's been through-"

"Who else _could_ it be?"

Tom looked at her like she was an idiot. "You need a _list_?"

"But he has _directly benefited_ from this."

That got her a derisive snort. "Being my partner is _beneficial_? Diana, being my partner caused _you_ to leave the country!"

Sometimes, the truth hurt, and his honesty left her smarting. Apparently, it showed, because he did a Tom Baldwin, sort-of backpedal.

"I don't mean to suggest you weren't entitled to your trip, but _try_ to understand how difficult it was when you left. Collier's new 4400s had just started popping up, and Piershal wasn't the only one to have a positive reaction with negative results. My first two partners ended up in the hospital barely a week apart." Gripping the bedrail, he leaned over Shawn's bed toward her, speaking slowly for emphasis. "Not only was Marco the only person who could fill your shoes, by the end of the first month, he was the only person willing to take the job."

Why had she not known how bad it had been? In response to her stunned expression, Tom leaned back from his aggressive stance.

"Think, for a minute, Diana." His voice had calmed, though it still carried the edge that came from his trying to reason with someone he felt was being obstinate. "How many years have you known Marco?"

"Six."

"And in all that time, has he ever done anything deceptive?"

Rolling her eyes, she held out a finger, intent on counting the examples. "First there was hacking into Lytell's computer-"

He gave her a hard look. "Has he ever _lied_ to you?"

Grudgingly, she admitted, "No."

"Has he ever done anything detrimental to you in any way?"

"No."

"Given what you know if him, does it seem like he would do what you're accusing him of?"

"I...suppose not, but it's like...someone is trying to keep us apart, and he's in the perfect position to do it."

"You're in an even _better_ position and have been doing a fine enough job of that without anyone's help." Again, she was stung by the truth, but Tom just shrugged. "Only someone in a big hurry could get a passport as quickly as you did for Maia. You might have had some small concerns about leaving, but you practically flew out the door, Diana."

Wanting to keep the focus on Marco's suspicious new nature, she insisted, "Plus, he's so different, now."

"And you're not?"

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Tom gave a laugh, as though she were joking. "The Diana I met four years ago would _never_ have gone to Spain for half a year with a man she'd known for less than a month, least of all when she had a child to worry about and a major crisis at work."

When he said it that way, it _did_ sound odd. "But...you didn't say anything."

"What would I have said?" He shook his head and smiled. "It's your life, Diana. It's not my place to comment on how you live it."

"Just like it wasn't my place to comment on Alana moving in with you?" At that, Tom nodded and looked away, his whole stature changing. Unsure as to the cause, she asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

He busied himself with straightening his nephew's bedding. "She's gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone'? Did the government renege on their deal?"

Meeting her gaze, his was shockingly hollow. "I mean 'gone' as in 'abducted.' It happened shortly after you left."

She could feel her eyes rounding in response, her heart speeding up, but it was as much at the shock of not having known as at the prospect of the woman Tom loved having been kidnapped. "Who...?"

"Marco and the guys in the basement think it's the same people who took them all in the first place."

"He does, does he?"

The skepticism in her voice caused Tom's brow to furrow, again. "She was taken from in front of the house, and no one has claimed responsibility, nor has forensics or our investigation come up with any leads."

"That doesn't mean-"

An angry gesture cut her off. "They used the gravity test _you_ originally proposed. Besides...there were witnesses."

"What?" For some reason, it bothered her that Marco had again been let off the hook. It made her wonder at herself. All that the eager young scientist had ever done was try to help them as best as he could. Why was she so determined to paint him as a villain?

"Ball of light, the whole nine yards." Her ex-partner looked down, a subtle strain in his voice. "They took her back. They took her away from me, almost like it was punishment."

"Tom..." She'd never seen him like this and didn't know what to say.

"I haven't seen or heard from Kyle, either, not since the government seized all of The Center's assets." He shrugged again.

For some reason, his ability to do so in connection with something so heartbreaking reminded her of Marco, of the time she had told him it was over between them, and it made a part of her soul twinge. Even so, she resisted the urge to reach out and offer comfort. "I'm so sorry."

"You do it?" He smiled sadly.

"No..."

"Then there's no reason for you to feel sorry."

"I didn't know..." And she should have.

Nodding, he held up a finger. "About that. Since you seem to have issues with Marco, and it's possible someone connected to NTAC is involved, how about we ask Sid to quietly start an investigation for us?" Sid had stayed with the DHS when NTAC had been formed, content to keep out of all the "creepy stuff" his colleagues had found so compelling. "After all, no matter who's responsible, it's something that needs looking into."

"Good idea."

Pulling out his cell phone, Tom started flicking through menus. "So, if he's available, how about lunch at Sakura?" It was a little Japanese place with private booths, located about halfway between NTAC and the DHS headquarters.

Having not eaten Japanese for more than half a year, the idea appealed to her. "Perfect."


	2. Chapter 2

SPOILERS: through season three

NOTES: _Please, no mention of season four spoilers in reviews._

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

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DESK, PART 2 

PLANNING

Catching up with Sid proved to be far more helpful than Diana had anticipated. Not only did his friendliness and familiar attitude help her recover from her unsettling morning at NTAC, Sid asked Tom many of the questions she, herself, wanted to ask. It had been a very bleak time for Tom, but he downplayed his personal troubles, instead, choosing to highlight the recent birth of Sid's first child and Diana's engagement--Sid had spotted the ring on her finger before they'd even shook hands. Compared to their lives, Sid's sounded almost idillic; it made her wonder how different her life might have been if she'd stayed with the DHS.

That Sid, too, expressed surprise about Tom's new partner gave her an odd little sense of satisfaction, not that Sid had known Marco very well. Again, Tom defended his partner, despite the fact that they were asking Sid to do a job they once would have once gotten Marco to do for them. Vowing to use utmost discretion, Sid left with promises of getting back to them in a week or so. Then Tom got a call from Marco and excused himself after offering to sit in on her eventual meeting with Nina. A cowardly part of Diana refused to ask him what he thought of her trying to regain her field agent status. Tom would either tell her exactly what he thought or dodge the question, and she didn't feel confident enough to rationally deal with either response.

Since it was early afternoon, traffic was fairly light, so it didn't take long to get home. She was greeted at the door by a kiss from Ben, and, suddenly, all her troubles seemed to fade into the background. "Wait 'til you see what I found!" He didn't ask about her visit to NTAC or report on Maia's first day back at homeschool. Some part of her found this odd, but that niggling feeling was swept aside by another kiss. With great enthusiasm, he dragged her around the sofa to sit her in front of his laptop on the coffee table. The screen held the image of a beautiful little church with asters in full bloom.

"What's this?" There was something vaguely familiar about the place.

Ben gave her a self-satisfied grin. "I went to talk to the restaurant where you want to have the reception, and I spotted this church nearby."

"It's lovely..." Again, some part of her was bothered by his behavior, by the presumption of his picking a church without her, but she tried to rationalize that it was just a picture.

"You don't like it?" He had that I'm-just-trying-to-please look in his eyes that always made her cave-in to his ideas.

"No, no. It looks wonderful. It's just that..." Then she remembered why it seemed familiar--a coworker at the CDC had gotten married there. "I'm familiar with this church. You have to belong to it for a year before you can have a wedding there."

He grinned again. "Not any more."

"What do you mean?" Diana distinctly remembered her coworker going on about how arduous it had been to never miss a Sunday and to attend the various courses the minister required of all couples.

"I talked to the minister, and he said he'd be happy to work us in, though it'll have to be on a Saturday." He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips; the hair of his beard and mustache tickled her knuckles. "A Saturday wedding would be okay, right?"

She tried to voice her surprise at the ease with which Ben had found them a perfect little church, but it was somehow difficult to remember her objection. They had discussed ideas about the wedding while traveling through Spain, and he knew she was a fairly secular person. "A Saturday wedding would be fine." She smiled in response to the light in his eyes and felt as though a weight had been lifted from her. She hadn't been looking forward to finding a church.

"Great! I've made an appointment to see him tomorrow."

"So soon?"

Turning his gaze to the screen, he tapped the touchpad of his laptop with his free hand, flicking though more pictures of the church. "Yeah. We've got to move fast if we want to book a day that's anytime soon."

"What about Maia?" Diana had yet to talk to sitters about schedules.

"We'd bring her along, of course." He always had answers to every least worry. "If she gets bored, there's a little garden out back. She could sketch the flowers." One of the ways Ben had won Maia over was to notice and encourage her art. What had once been childish scribbles had grown much more sophisticated over the last six months.

"When's the appointment?"

"Ten tomorrow morning."

"Oh, I can't make that. I have to talk to Nina about work." She wanted the issue of her position settled and Marco out from behind her desk as quickly as possible.

Taking both her hands in his, Ben gave her a serious look. "Have you made an appointment with her, yet?"

"No," she confessed, "but-"

"Can't it wait until the afternoon?" His thumbs massaged the backs of her hands. "We might not have another chance at this."

"I..." She worried about how that might look, showing up at work after lunch instead of first thing in the morning.

"Is there some reason you want to hold off?" The hint of hurt in his voice brought her full focus back to him.

"I'd just like to get everything settled at work as quickly as possible, that's all."

"NTAC's not going anywhere, but available wedding dates..." He tilted his head with a smirk and that silly, persuasive look of his that reminded her of a used car dealer.

"NTAC's not going anywhere," she agreed with a smile.

"Great! So I thought, for dinner, maybe we could go out for Japanese?"

He knew her so well, it made her laugh. "I had Japanese for lunch. Besides, Maia likes Chinese better." They hadn't had any Chinese food in Spain, either.

"So you're good with going out?"

"I don't feel like cooking." They'd only picked up basic groceries since they'd come back. Trying to come up with something besides eggs or sandwiches would take some effort.

"Neither do I." With a tap, he shut down his laptop. "Maia! You wanna go to Chinese for dinner?"

Maia emerged from her room with all the enthusiasm of a wet noodle. "I don't care."

"Have a bad day?" asked Diana, worry beginning to stir in her heart.

Her daughter just gave her a look, as though any answer was self-evident. She'd made her opinion about homeschooling quite plain.

"Come here, honey." Slinging an arm over the sofa, Ben gestured to the preteen and took her hand when she was close enough. "This is a big change for all of us, but you said we'd be happy, right?" Maia nodded, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. "We'll find you a school as soon as we can. In the meantime, try to remember that this is only temporary." Maia nodded again, her smile less reluctant. "And try to remember how great Chinese food is!" Miraculously, Maia actually giggled. "So, where do you want to go?"

"Golden Buddha."

"That a girl!"

Over dinner, they shared the tales of their respective days. Even though only Ben had enjoyed his, the simple act of sharing filled Diana with a sense of acceptance and satisfaction. No matter what happened at work, she had Ben and Maia to come home to. On the way back, they stopped by the grocery store where Ben had first kissed her. It stirred memories of the thrill of love's first bloom, and she was so distracted by the recollection that she couldn't remember what they'd settled on for dinner that week.

At home, Ben showed Maia his pictures of the church and asked her what she thought. Maia grew enthusiastic about the prospect of being involved in the wedding planning. Together, the three of them started brainstorming about all the possibilities. By bedtime, they were all looking forward to the next morning. Once they were alone, Ben was especially passionate, providing Diana the sound sleep of the sexually satiated.

The next morning was almost as pleasant as the ones they'd spent in Spain. With the appointment at ten, there was no need to rush, so they made pancakes and watched TV with Maia for a bit before needing to get cleaned up to go. Since it was after rush hour, traffic was reasonable, and as they pulled up, she couldn't help but think how picture-perfect the place was. Ben took her hand with a nervous smile, and she was suddenly overcome with emotion. This was where she wanted them to get married.

There was something odd about the minister. He kept getting this distracted frown, like he was trying to remember something that was bothering him. Whenever the minister paused too long in thought, Ben would touch his hand, and his focus would return to them. Other than that, the meeting went smoothly, and they set the date for a Saturday less than a month away. Maia didn't even get bored, and she was more than happy when they stopped at her favorite malt shop for lunch.

Diana arrived at NTAC just before two. Getting through security was less of a hassle than it'd been the day before, but she noticed one of them made a call before letting her though. Halfway down the main hall, she was met by a fuming Tom.

"Where the hell have you been?" He stalked with her back to the elevators.

With a frown, she snarked. "Good afternoon to you, too, Tom."

"Showing up at two is hardly a way to impress Nina with the conviction of your desire to return to field duty!"

"I had an appointment," she insisted.

With a huff, Tom thumbed the elevator security pad and hit the down button. "What could be more important than-"

"We booked a church for the wedding this morning."

That took some of the heat out of him. "Oh. Is that why you didn't answer any of my calls?"

"What?" The elevator arrived, and they had to separate as a pair of agents exited.

Once inside, Tom turned to her with a frown. "I've been calling all morning."

Pulling out her cell phone, she found it had been turned off. She never turned her cell phone off, only back and forth from ring to vibrate. "That's weird..."

"What?"

"It's off. I must have hit the wrong button." Activating it, she saw there were eight calls, two from Nina. "Damn."

The elevator opened and they made their way to Nina's office. "You've got to have your head in the game, Diana. In four years, you've never-"

"She's never what?" Nina had apparently received a call from security, too, since they weren't ten feet from the elevator when she intercepted them.

Holding up her cell phone, Diana muttered, "Minor technical problems is all. Do you have time for a meeting?"

"I do, but only because Baldwin insisted I make the time." The head of NTAC glowered at them both. "My office is in use. We can use interview room one." She gestured down the hall, and Diana and Tom exchanged puzzled looks before following.

Once they entered, Nina closed the door behind her and sat down, tossing a file on the table. Only then did she let her officious demeanor relax a moment. "Spain must have treated you well, Skouris. I've never seen you look so relaxed."

"Uh..." Diana was so taken off guard by the statement, she didn't know quite what to say. "Thanks. You're looking good, yourself."

It was an automatic response, and Nina snorted at it as though she'd made a petty joke. "Look, I've heard from Tom what seems to have happened, and I have to tell you, there's nothing I can do about it." She flipped the folder open, revealing its contents. "The paperwork was signed months ago. You'll have to reapply and retake all the tests to get back into the field. Do that, and I'll hook you up with another partner."

"What?" Tom leaned forward, head tilted slightly in incredulity.

"Wait. What do you mean by 'another partner'?" demanded Diana.

Nina shrugged. "Sorry, Skouris, but Pacella gets better results. Plus, he doesn't have a family to worry about, nothing to impact his schedule."

"When have I ever-"

"You've been in Spain for _six months_." Nina's voice reflected none of Diana's heat, but there was a stony, uncompromising edge to it. "That's not just a vacation, and Maia has caused you problems more than once."

Diana opened her mouth to respond, but Nina held up her hands in a calming gesture.

"Just because you're not field rated doesn't mean I'm good with you being out of NTAC until the next round of exams. The Medical department could really use some help. If you're interested, there's an opening in virology." She flipped to some papers lower in the stack. "Assistant manager--it's more hands-on than manager, with fewer meetings and a nice, 9 to 5 schedule most of the time."

Too stunned to fully process everything, Diana merely stared, belatedly managing to get herself to close her mouth. The next round of tests wouldn't be until January, four months away.

Tom, however, hadn't lost his voice. "You have _got_ to be kidding!"

"About what part?" Nina leveled her gaze at him. "I'm not Ryland, Tom. I can't just wave my hand and make all the bureaucracy disappear for my own convenience. And you, yourself, are the one who has convinced me of Pacella's worth. Do you want to change your reports so he's less impressive?"

Diana sensed something passed between them that she wasn't privy to. It made Tom's expression grow guarded. "No, of course not."

What were they keeping from her? What did Marco have to do with it all? How could he be better than she was?

"It's only a few months. Recall that you were out of commission for a full year, and you survived." When Tom nodded with a grim smile, Nina turned back to Diana. "Just think about it, okay." Pulling out the virology paperwork, Nina set it on the table then collected the rest of the file and stood. "I know your life's going through a lot of changes, right now. So take your time, but try to get back to me by the end of the week." With that, she left.

When she managed to find her voice, Diana muttered, "Well _that_ wasn't what I expected."

"Yeah."

She turned to Tom, unsure if she wanted to ask but unable to resist her curiosity. "What was that all about?"

Blinking, Tom turned to her. "Huh?"

"The part about Marco and reports."

"It's a long story." Tom shrugged dismissively and stood, one hand absently flipping through the papers Nina had left behind. "Given how you feel about him, you probably wouldn't want to hear all the details." Pausing, he met her eyes, and she could see he was concealing something deep and powerful. "All you need to know is that he really is an exceptional field agent." He glanced back down at the papers. "In the end, deciding on partners is Nina's call."

Diana sat for a minute, absorbing it all. Then she stood and gathered the papers. "Well, I guess I should visit the virology lab."

Nodding, Tom opened the door for her and patted her on the shoulder as she passed. "It's only a few months. Maybe it won't be so bad. You might actually get to spend all of Thanksgiving with Maia this time."

"Yeah. Maybe it won't be so bad."


	3. Chapter 3

SPOILERS: through season three

NOTES: The reactions in the reviews so far have not been quite what I'd expected. I guess I've been a bit too subtle. All I can say is that I'm not trying to pick on Diana; I'm trying to create a dramatic but hopefully believable sequence of events and keep the characters in character. (Just because Nina's not warm and fuzzy doesn't mean she's mean.) In the U.S., people don't normally get to take off work for six months and walk back into the same job they left, and showing up without an appointment at two to ask about a job you want is not very professional. Just try to keep in mind, _this is a Ben-fix fic_! I believe this chapter will better demonstrate that I am not trying to get anyone to like Ben. _Please, no mention of season four spoilers in reviews._

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

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DESK, PART 3 

INVITATIONS

Working in NTAC's virology lab definitely had its advantages over being a field agent. The regular hours made it easier for Diana to keep a decent schedule with her family and offered her enough free time to adequately plan her rapidly approaching wedding. As an added bonus, working in the medical wing made it easier to avoid Marco. Despite Sid's inability to find anything unusual about the email messages involving the resignation of her field status, Diana was growing to think of Marco as her nemesis. Just the sight of him could set her on edge. Fortunately, he seemed equally eager to avoid her.

Although she wouldn't admit it to anyone, it irked Diana's competitive, perfectionist nature to have someone with so much less experience be deemed better than she was at a job for which neither of them was particularly well-suited. Even so, some compulsion kept her from trying to access records about all that had happened during her absence. It was as though a vital part of her was dead-set against knowing, that knowing was somehow a threat to her happiness. So she ignored the whole issue.

In the meantime, she invited Tom to dinner to get to know Ben better and ask her ex-partner if he would be her bestperson at the wedding. Tom's reaction was a mix of surprise and reluctance, but after a pat on the back and a joke from Ben, Tom responded with appropriate enthusiasm. She reassured him all he needed to do was get fitted for a tux, show up on time, hand her a ring and make a speech. They weren't even going to have a rehearsal dinner, since the wedding party was going to be so small--just herself, Ben, Maia, Tom and Caesar, who was an old friend of Ben's and a vital part of his photography network. Ben had convinced her it was okay to give in to the impulse not to invite her father. It was supposed to be a happy day, so he saw no point in having someone there who might spoil that for her.

Somehow, despite going over all the relevant details with Tom that night, Diana managed to overlook a particularly bothersome question, one that needed to be dealt with if she wanted to finish sending out invitations.

The virology lab was hardly the central hub of NTAC activity, and Diana had done little enough to keep up-to-the-minute on the assignments of other departments. So she wasn't sure what might be happening with Tom. Hoping he'd have a few minutes, she drummed up some courage and went to visit his office. She almost balked when she saw Marco was also there, but he was putting on his jacket, as though about to leave. That helped her resist the urge to call Tom instead of seeing him in person. Steeling herself, as though walking into the lion's den, she approached the office. Some part of her wondered how she'd grown to so dread the office she was hoping to someday regain.

She knocked on the door frame, and both men looked up. Tom greeted her with a small smile while Marco glanced hastily away.

"Got a minute, Tom?"

"Sure, come in." He waved her in with one hand while typing with the other.

"I'll just...get a car and meet you out front." Marco managed not to meet her eyes despite having to move sideways to pass her on his way out the door.

She waited until the he was out of earshot before wondering aloud. "You let him drive?"

Tom snorted. "Yeah. Who'd have guessed that inside such a mild-mannered geek lies a Mario Andretti?"

"Really?" She watched Marco as he made his way to the elevators. "Doesn't make up for how shifty he is." A snort drew her attention back to Tom. "What?"

"You've had it in for him since the minute you got back to NTAC." With a shrug, he finished turning off his computer then stood and pulled his jacket from the back of his chair. "Can you blame the guy for being skittish around you?" Shaking his head, he slipped into his jacket.

"It's unprofessional."

That got her a puzzled look from Tom, the one he got while trying to work through something his intuition felt wasn't right. He even raised a hand and opened his mouth, as if on the verge of an epiphany. Then, like a switch was flicked, the expression abruptly disappeared, his hand changing direction to retrieve and holster his gun, instead. Blinking, he beamed at her with a rather unTom-like smile. For some reason, it reminded her of the minister. "What can I do for you, Diana?" He said it as though she'd just walked into the room.

"Actually, I..." His behavior was disquieting and made her want to ask him what he'd been thinking, but something inside her urged her ignore it. He was a busy agent on his way out the door, after all. It was best to get to the point. "I wanted to ask you if you think I should invite Marco to the wedding."

With an exasperated huff, he shook his head. "No way, José." Then he raised his eyebrows in response to her expression.

"What?" She couldn't help her defensive tone.

Tom held up his hands as though to fend off further inquiry. "I've given you my opinion."

"I was hoping for more than that," she pressed, closing the door for privacy. "I want to know what you think."

"Seriously?" In response to her nod, he gripped the back of his chair, tilting it back as he leaned forward with a furrowed brow. Just before he reached the tipping point, one hand shot out to gesture after Marco. "Less than a year ago, you and Marco were in a serious relationship, and now you're marrying someone else. I know I'm no Mr. Sensitive--so I'm not the first person who should comment on other people's behavior--but just because you got over him quickly doesn't make it okay to ignore the fact that he hasn't gotten over you." That revelation came as a surprise to her, though it apparently seemed obvious to Tom. Leaning back, he spread his hands wide. "He may have made it as easy for you as possible, but you can't be unaware of how much this has hurt him. Asking him to watch it happen would be like twisting the knife. How could you even _consider_ inviting him?" Tom had never been good at hiding his incredulity.

"Maia said he'd be there." It had been an odd, almost skittish confession, one Maia had insisted on making only to Diana. Neither of them had really talked to Ben about Marco, let alone how important he had once been in their lives.

Tom swept the statement aside with a flick of his wrist. "Then she's wrong."

"Maia's never wrong." Her daughter's prediction about April being at the wedding was all but confirmed. If April had agreed to go, why not Marco?

"I keep hearing that, but I can't help questioning the truth of it." One hand fluttered beside his ear. "How can a little girl always flawlessly interpret something as insubstantial as visions?" He tilted his head, his gaze serious. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Maybe she saw Marco at a _different_ wedding, one she would be at, too, like Garrity's."

"Jed's getting married?"

Tom shrugged, again. "Marco mentioned Garrity's serious about someone, so that would make sense."

"It would..." she nodded in agreement. Why hadn't she considered that, herself?

Tom moved to the door and gave her a pat on the shoulder. "Do yourself and Marco a favor--don't invite him."

"Right." She felt like there was something important she was overlooking, something just within her reach. Then her cell phone rang. Pulling it from her pocket, she found the display said it was Ben.

"Gotta go." Tom slipped past her and out the door. "Just call if you need me."

"Sure. Thanks, Tom."

"Any time." With a wave, he trotted down the hall to the elevator that lead to the front entry.

Answering her phone, she sat in her old chair and couldn't help but note the changes to her desk. "Hey."

"Hey, sweetheart. I managed to make an appointment with the Carmichael Academy at four. Think you can make it?"

They'd been looking at various academies for Maia, but few felt comfortable about having a 4400 student. So getting an appointment at Carmichael Academy was quite a triumph, yet she couldn't enjoy it. Smelling the subtle scent of Marco while hearing Ben's voice was innately disconcerting; she felt dizzy. "Um..." Standing, she left the office to head back to her own. "I'm not at my desk right now. Can I call you back when I get there?"

"Sure. Talk to you then."

On impulse, she stopped by the NTAC medical lobby on her way to the virology lab. There was no one waiting, so when she mentioned feeling dizzy, they took her right away. They found her blood pressure a bit elevated, but a quick blood test showed she wasn't anemic. It had been a while since her last exam, and she _had_ been abroad for six months. So they convinced her to let them draw blood, take a throat culture and do a few more basic tests. Then they gave her an electrolyte balancing beverage and sent her back to work.

Once at her new desk, surrounded by the unique scents of the lab, she felt much better. Arranging to have someone cover her last hour and a half of work made her feel better still. That the Carmichael Academy was gorgeous, and Maia loved it, made her feel fantastic. To top it all off, because Maia was a 4400, she was eligible for a special scholarship, which made the Academy more affordable than homeschooling. They celebrated with a dinner of paella at a fantastic little Spanish place Ben had found while scouting for gallery space. But the lovely afternoon and evening were briefly spoiled as Diana and Ben got ready for bed.

"Diana, what's that?"

Rinsing out her toothpaste, she spit into the bathroom sink before turning to see an anxious, almost angry look on Ben's face. "What's what?"

"What's that on your arm?" There was an odd tension in his voice, and he set aside the photos he'd been flipping through on the bed to stand up.

She absently tapped her toothbrush against the rim of the sink and set it in its holder before peeling the tape and cottonball off her inner elbow. "It's nothing, really. I just felt dizzy this morning, so they ran a few tests."

"They _who_?"

She looked back up from her arm, surprised by the demand in his voice. "The NTAC clinic, of course. I was past-due for a checkup anyway."

The step he took toward gave her an odd sense of menace. "They drew your blood?" His eyes rounded.

Why was he so upset about this? "It's okay. They didn't find anything wrong. It's all just routine." She laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Don't tell me you're squeamish about blood?"

He gazed at her for a long moment with a hard, heated look in his eyes before turning his gaze back to the bed. "I just remembered I need to make a call to Spain." His tone was back to normal. "There's been another snag with the rights for the San Sebastian photos. With the appointment at the academy and everything, I forgot all about it."

"Are you sure?" She glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "It isn't even seven in the morning over there." Stepping closer, she touched his arm, and he glanced up at her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah. It shouldn't take long, though. I just need to light some fires to get a few people moving." His kiss on her cheek made her feel reassured that everything was okay. "You go to bed. I'll catch up with you soon." Then he slipped away from her, gathered up the photos and left for the dining room.

The sangria she'd had with the paella made her sleepy, so she didn't bother contemplating Ben's behavior too long. By the time her head touched the pillow, she'd all but forgotten the odd little moment. Just as she was drifting to sleep, she felt Ben snuggle up behind her, stroking her arm and murmuring reassuringly in her ear. He did that most nights, though she was never quite sure what he said. That night, she dreamed of a beautiful wedding and of Maia graduating with honors from prestigious Carmichael Academy.


	4. Chapter 4

SPOILERS: through season three

NOTES: _Please, no mention of season four spoilers in reviews._

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

* * *

DESK, PART 4 

WEDDING

In what seemed like no time at all, the day of the wedding arrived. It was a typical, overcast, Seattle morning, but the forecaster had promised some sunshine by noon. At least it wasn't raining.

Regardless of the weather, there was no clouding the way she felt. If anyone had told her ten years ago, after the disaster with Josh, that she would have a beautiful daughter and be getting married to an amazing, passionate, loving man, she never would have believed it. It was almost like having a dream come true.

Despite Maia's recital of various wedding taboos she'd read about in magazines--such as the bride and groom not seeing each other until the processional--Diana couldn't help taking peeks at her fiancé as he greeted the people who came into the church. He shook every person's hand and apparently said something special to each one, for they all left him with a big, happy smile. She'd never had particularly refined social skills, so she couldn't help but marvel anew at his remarkable way with people. It was almost like magic.

At last, everyone was seated, and the music began to play. Although a bit too old for the job, Maia had agreed to be their flower girl, and she left Diana to fulfill her duty while being escorted down the aisle by Tom and Caesar. Then it was Diana's turn. Alone, she walked to the alter. She was so focused on her handsome groom that the rest was like a vague blur, with the guests and flowers and even Maia's smile barely registering. Taking Ben's hand, her heart overflowed with happiness as the minister began speaking of the importance of marriage.

During a pause in the ceremony, she heard the quiet thump of a closing door. The minister's gaze flicked to the entrance of the church as he intoned, "If anyone present knows why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, let them speak now-"

"I object."

Those two words echoed through the church with authority but none of the passion one might expect, given the context. It seemed everyone turned in unison to stare at the speaker. Dark-haired and bearded, he wore an NTAC jacket and no glasses. That's why she didn't recognize him at first.

"Marco?" Maia wondered aloud as he strode purposefully down the center aisle.

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Tom.

"My job," was his brief reply. "Everyone, please remain seated. Caesar Esperanza, you are under arrest for plotting and participating in terrorist activities against the United States, perpetrating fraud and burglary, and violating the international 4400 laws." At this, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from a snap at his belt. It was then she realized he wasn't looking at Ben's friend but at Ben, himself. "Please raise your hands above your head and step to your right, away from the others."

Suddenly, Diana felt herself yanked into a rough embrace, one arm around her waist, another around one shoulder. In her surprise, it took a moment for her to process the fact that it was Ben who'd grabbed her, pulling her away from the wedding party and holding her like a shield between himself and man who'd just ruined her wedding. Something cold and hard was pressed against her throat. "Sour grapes, Pacella?" Ben's voice was derisive and harsh, unlike anything she'd ever heard from him before.

Marco slowed his progress, his hands raised in front of him in a placating manner, handcuffs dangling from his right thumb. Some part of her fixated on the sudden observation that he wore latex gloves. Why was he wearing gloves? "The building's surrounded. You're not getting out. Don't make this more difficult than it has to be."

"You really expect me to believe you'd risk her life?" At this, Ben tightened his grip on her, nearly lifting her off her feet.

"Believe what you like." Marco shrugged. "Even if you get past me, the others will stop you."

"They won't if I get everyone here to riot."

En masse, the guests stood, then everything was pain. It wasn't the sharp, precise pain of metal on flesh, but the convulsive, body-numbing agony of electric shock. Unable to control herself, Diana fell in a twitching heap, dimly recalling that stun guns were a part of NTAC's arsenal before her head hit the marble dais.

The next thing she knew, Marco was leaning over her, one gloved hand on her throat, the other in front of her face. "How many fingers am I holding up?" If he was worried, she couldn't hear it in his voice.

Thrashing her head in an attempt to dislodge his hand, she tried to push him away but found her arms oddly uncooperative.

His gaze hardened. "Hold still. You've been cut." The pressure on her neck became slightly more forceful. "Think about Maia. Or would you rather have her watch her mother bleed to death after being assaulted by her father-to-be?"

She did think about Maia, and all that had just happened, the pieces falling together in her dazed brain. It felt like being crushed as the reality of her lost dream of love and marriage settled on her. "I hate you," she gasped.

Nodding, he accepting her vitriol without blinking, as though it was a part of his job to be wounded by her tongue. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two," she spat. It had become a number symbolic of her life.

"Good," he murmured, reaching for her wrist with his free hand, apparently to take her pulse despite the layer of latex that separated her skin from his.

When had he learned to take someone's pulse? Had he known before they'd met? What did it matter?

"What's today's date?" There were a lot of people talking around them, but somehow, he commanded her attention, the other voices becoming a vague buzz.

"Saturday, the 6th of October, 2007."

"Where are you?" Behind his head, the stained glass flared with brilliance as the sun escaped the cloud cover. The glow brought out the rich brown hidden in his dark hair. "Stay with me, Diana." Her gaze refocused on his face. "Where are you?"

"Saint Mark's United Church of Christ."

"Do you know what has happened?"

"You've ruined my wedding." Her voice sounded pitiful and desperate, even to her own ears. "I was happy."

"It was a lie, Diana." Despite his guarded gaze, his voice was consoling, his touch tender as he ran a thumb comfortingly over her knuckles.

Feelings of helplessness and loss overwhelmed her stunned body, and she felt tears in her eyes, on her cheeks. "But I was happy."

"I know." Releasing her hand, he brushed the tears from her face. "I'm sorry." The heartfelt words seemed to come from someplace deep, and the brief glimpse of misery in his eyes seemed to mirror her own. He'd wanted her to be happy, too.

"Maia..."

"I'll make sure she's okay," he promised. Then he let go and stepped aside as paramedics arrived and took over. Distantly, she heard him say, "Hey, Maia. Why don't you come with me and Jed?" Maia spoke, but her voice was too quiet and quavering for Diana to make out the words. "She'll be all right. Everything's going to be all right now." Marco spoke with all the assurance and comfort she might have used, perhaps more. Hadn't he always had Maia's best interests at heart?

Accepting that her daughter would be reliably cared for, Diana let herself succumb to the sleep that dragged at her overwhelmed senses.


	5. Chapter 5

SPOILERS: through season three

NOTES: Thank you, PurpleYin, for the beta! _Please, no mention of season four spoilers in reviews._

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

* * *

DESK, PART 5 

RECOVERY I

When she woke, Diana found herself quarantined, alone in a padded cell. The medical staff, none of whom she recognized, wouldn't let her see anyone, not even Ben or Maia. Her response to this situation was slow, as she gradually came out from under the effects of the drugs they'd given her for the pain of her wound. But once the drugs wore off, her reaction was intense and unrelenting.

Life without Ben was unbearable, and she wanted to die.

She would have ended her life, had they given her the chance, but they didn't. There were no curtains on the frosted windows with which she might hang herself, no sheets on the mattress, either. The glass of the windows and door wouldn't break, nor would the mattress or padded walls tear so she could choke on the material. Some days, she didn't get off the mattress, so they had to give her a catheter and sit with her while an I.V. provided her miserable body with fluid. Others days, she couldn't keep food down, and she'd vomit it all into the drain in the floor. But always she felt weak and insubstantial and found herself crying at the drop of a hat.

It wasn't so much that she missed Ben's love and affection but that she couldn't soothe the relentless need to be with him. Yet no matter how she begged and pleaded to see him, they always told her no. He was a 4400 and a criminal, and his power to influence people was like an addiction. The doctors said so, and they treated her recovery as such, though with perhaps a bit more stringency. There was no easing off this dependency, and cold turkey was killing her by inches.

April proved to be the most helpful. She visited often, even before Diana was moved to a normal room. She offered more empathy and understanding than Diana felt she had any right to receive. Of course, as April often reminded her, she had already survived the misery Diana was unwillingly living through, so no one could better understand what Diana was experiencing. Then again, April had escaped the hell of losing Ben by becoming a 4400, herself. Diana didn't have that option. Even so, just knowing that someone else knew, that someone else shared in the intense feelings that pulled at her like the tide, it made her suffering a tiny bit bearable and gave her a tenuous hope--that and the promise she could see Maia once she was better.

Guilt over how all this was affecting her daughter, that she was not there for Maia during this trying time, was the one feeling she had that was unrelated to Ben. Although they assured her Maia's recovery from the effects of his power was quick and almost effortless--and that guilt was not a foundation upon which to build recovery--she worried about Maia and felt cheated of every day she was without her daughter.

Once Diana was capable of modest levels of reasoning, April began filling her in on Maia's life. Since NTAC's lawyers couldn't find a way for Marco's temporary custody to stick, April had claimed responsibility for her niece. It was difficult for Marco and April to try jointly caring for Maia while living in different places, so Tom had offered them a solution. In order to give Maia as much stability as possible, Tom invited Maia, April and Marco to live with him until Diana was ready to be released. That way, all three could take turns accommodating the girl's needs.

Although the Carmichael Academy was not happy about discovering Maia's entrance to their school had been due to the influence of a 4400's power, they chose to be decent about it. Because Maia had already impressed her teachers in her few weeks there, they decided to let her stay. She'd even joined the art club. Diana tried to feel good about her daughter's success, but part of her felt cheated and anxious--Was Maia better off without her?

Thoughts like that kept Diana in the mental ward even after she'd recovered enough to leave her padded cell, but at least she was allowed to see her daughter. The first time she was able to hold Maia in her arms, she was moved to tears and hung on for a good five minutes. It seemed to embarrass Maia, but Diana couldn't help herself.

Maia visited five times a week. Sometimes April or Tom would visit with her, but never Marco. During those times when Maia was alone, she established herself as the most liberal fount of information Diana had access to. From her daughter, she had various suspicions confirmed--that Ben was a foreign 4400 who'd had his features altered; that he'd been sent to become involved with her in order to gain access to Maia; that he was the one who'd handled the correspondence involving the resignation of her field agent status, and that Nina had begun her own investigation into Diana's resignation. What she hadn't suspected was that Marco had been the one who had convinced Nina to look into it, that their first conversation after her return had started the wheels spinning in his brilliant, thoughtful mind.

Unlike Sid, Tom and Diana, Marco had noticed that all of the email messages about her resignation had been sent after midnight in Spain, so it was logical to assume someone else there had had access to her laptop after she'd gone to bed. Ben was the obvious choice. The damning blow in the case against him had been a failed attempt to have someone steal the blood from Diana's medical exam. Phone records had eventually confirmed the would-be thief had been in contact with Ben. During his interrogation, the burglar unintentionally revealed hints about Ben's power. Based on that information, combined with the test results from Diana's blood, the Theory Room had come up with a plan to get around Ben--simple latex gloves. Since Tom had been exposed, he'd been kept out of the loop. That had left Marco and Garrity as the next agents in charge, and, of the two, Marco had been the obvious choice to cause a distraction at the wedding.

Looking back, she couldn't help but wonder how she had never suspected Ben in any way, had never listened to her intuition when things he'd achieved had felt off. Even after her doctors assured her that, being under his influence, she could have walked in on him with a smoking gun and thought nothing of it, she couldn't help but feel inadequate. She had invited a man bent on controlling her daughter into their house and into their lives. How could she not feel responsible?

She also felt sheepish about focusing so much suspicion on Marco. Again, her doctors told her it was all a part of Ben's manipulation of her thoughts, that he'd given her a scapegoat to distract her...not that the prospect of having had so little control of herself was reassuring. She reasoned that giving responsibility of Maia over to Marco was the ultimate sign of her faith and trust in him, but if she couldn't ask him how he felt, how could she be certain?

One day, when Maia was visiting by herself, Diana decided to test a theory. While scanning over her daughter's latest drawings, she picked up a sketch of a familiar little sports car. "So...who drove you, today?"

"Marco." Maia didn't often talk about him, despite that he was one of her three substitute parents, though Tom and April usually schooled the conversation away from Diana's ex-boyfriend.

"And how is he?"

Maia looked up from the sketches she was rearranging and gave her mother a long hard look, as though gauging Diana's sincerity. At last, she shrugged and turned back to her art. "Okay, I guess...tired, though. He and Tom work a lot." She paused to look at her mother again, then set the sketches aside. "But even though he's really busy, he always has time for me. He helps me with homework and plays video games with me...and he listens to me."

"You like talking to him?"

Nodding, Maia tried to hide a wry smile. "He's easier to talk to than Tom and has better advice than Aunt April."

Diana couldn't help but grin at the truth of her daughters words, as well as the shrewdness behind it. "What do you talk about?"

Once Maia started talking about him, memories of Marco skittered about Diana's brain like leaves in the wind, bringing with them inciting recollections of stability and security.

"I wonder why he never visits with you..."

Maia snorted. "You said you hated him, and he was saving your life at the time."

Although Diana's own memories of the incident were fractured and uncertain, it seemed Maia's were crystalline.

"I...I wasn't myself at the time." It was a poor excuse, but a valid one.

"You sure sounded like you meant it."

"Do you really think that's why?"

"How would you feel if-" Maia cut herself off, her eyes dropping to her hands.

"If what, honey?"

She shook her head. "I promised not to mention him."

"If Ben said he hated me?"

Maia nodded. For her, it seemed, the comparison was obvious.

"I'd feel pretty bad." The confession hurt more than she'd thought it would, but it finally made her seriously consider the feelings of someone besides herself, Maia and Ben.

Looking up, her daughter's gaze was honest. "I wish you'd married Marco, instead."

"I couldn't..." She'd never given Maia an honest answer about why Marco had suddenly dropped out of their lives.

"Why not? He's nice and funny, and all he's ever done is help us." Maia hadn't completely outgrown her childish whine.

"It's complicated."

"That's what he says." Looking down, Maia pulled out another sketch of Marco's car and traced the lines with her fingers, a sad, thoughtful expression on her face. "I'm sorry."

Confused, Diana asked, "About what?"

"...telling you about marrying Ben."

Reaching across the table, Diana took away the sketch so she could hold her daughter's hands. "Maia, even if you hadn't told me, it would have happened, anyway. That's what he came here to do."

"I guess." Tilting her head, Maia looked up through her lashes. "But...I feel like...I _lied_ to you."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because..." She closed her eyes, and her bottom lip began to tremble. "Because..." It was more of a hiccup than a word.

Diana moved around the table and took her daughter in her arms. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I didn't _look_!" she sobbed. "I liked what I saw in my first vision and...I didn't look _past_ that. I should have seen..."

"It's okay, Maia." Brushing the tears from Maia's face, Diana lifted up her daughter's chin so they could look eye-to-eye. "It's not your fault. Ben influenced you, too. He didn't want you to see anything bad that related to him, so you wouldn't have seen what was going to happen."

"But _I'm_ the reason he came here..." Her voice was pleading. "_I'm_ the reason this happened to you!"

"Maia!" What could she do but hold her daughter as she cried herself out? "It's okay," she murmured, "It's not your fault."

Her daughter's confession caused her maternal instincts to kick into high gear, overpowering her own feelings of self-doubt and uncertainty. How could she feel anything but loathing for the man who had made her daughter feel this way? In assuaging her daughter's fears, she uncovered a hidden reservoir of determination and tapped into it. The sooner she recovered and was back with her daughter, the better it would be for both of them.

Watching through the window as Maia left the hospital, she saw Marco meet her daughter halfway along the path to the visitor parking. She found herself oddly mesmerized as he took the girl by the shoulders and bent closer, apparently scrutinizing her face. In response to something he said, Maia shook her head then nodded and threw herself into Marco's arms. Ignoring the stares of the people passing by, he returned her daughter's embrace until Maia had settled down enough to let go. After another couple of nodding responses from Maia, he took her hand, and they disappeared through the trees that hid the parking lot.

No matter the reason, she had treated Marco poorly for a very long time. Along with the burning desire to be a mother to Maia, again, a smaller spark of intent ignited within her. She had made amends with her sister, and it had given her the strength to liberate herself from the worst effects of her recovery. But how could she make amends to Marco if she could never get him in the same room? Somehow, she had to find a way.


	6. Chapter 6

SPOILERS: through season three

NOTES: Thank you, PurpleYin, for the beta! With luck, I'll finish the epilog today. _Please, no mention of season four spoilers in reviews._

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

* * *

DESK, PART 6

RECOVERY II

It had taken a great deal of persuasion. Her doctors had feared her feelings for Marco were still too conflicted to justify him visiting, but she had rationalized with them that she'd be seeing Marco at work, eventually, that she had to cross that bridge sometime. So, why not see him in a controlled environment? Once her doctors had agreed, it had taken more persuasion on the parts of Maia and April, but they were no modest force to contend with. Within days, he had agreed to their request on her behalf, arranging to see her on his way to pick up Maia from art club.

Instead of her room or the patient lobby, they met in a small, guest meeting room--a place that was private yet neutral ground. It surprised her how excited she felt about seeing him, again, how eager she was to hear his voice. She found herself fidgeting as she waited. She'd chosen to sit on the small sofa so she might gauge how comfortable he felt. If he sat next to her on the sofa, it would probably be an indication that he wanted to be close to her. There was also the option of the chair beside her, so he might be close yet separated from her. If he chose the chair at the far end of the sofa, well...

A knock on the door caused her pulse to race, and she chastised herself for her reaction. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she stood. "Come in."

Marco entered the room hesitantly--at first poking his head in to take a quick look before stepping through the door. "Um...hi, Diana."

Slipping a folder he was carrying under one arm, he held out his hand. It took her a second to figure out he was offering a handshake. She had promised her doctors and herself to do what was comfortable for both of them, but after all they'd been through, a handshake felt wrong. Stepping around the coffee table, she gave him a hug. She could feel him tense in response before the folder he dropped had even hit the floor. It was an awkward moment, to say the least, and she hastily let him go.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He chuckled uncomfortably and squatted down to gather up the items in the file. "I was just...surprised."

When he straightened, she just stood there, staring into his eyes, too overwhelmed with emotion to move. Maybe the doctors had been right--maybe she wasn't ready for this.

Glancing at the folder in his hands, Marco broke eye contact and cleared his throat.

"Sorry," she said, again, then moved back to her spot on the sofa. "What's in the file?"

Once she was seated, he settled into the chair beside her and spread out the folder on the coffee table. "Maia's class pictures came in yesterday."

Opening a white envelope, he slipped out a glossy four by six of Maia in her Carmichael Academy uniform. Her daughter's hair was hanging in beautiful, shining curls on either side of her face, and her smile was brighter than Diana had seen since the wedding. Yet, somehow, it didn't make her long for the happy illusion they'd been living in at the time.

She felt herself tearing up and laughed at herself. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

Glancing up at him, she saw he meant it.

"You're entitled to you feelings, Diana."

Even though it was something one of her doctors might say, she found herself too moved to speak, but this time, she was the one who broke their gaze. Reaching for the white envelope, she carefully slipped the photo back inside and set it in her lap so she'd have something to keep her hands still. "Thanks."

"Oh, it was an order from Maia that you get that." He nodded with mock solemnity, as though to counteract the previous moment of intensity. "She'll want to know what you think of it, so expect a call at..." Sliding up the sleeve of his jacket, he glanced at his watch. "...about four thirty."

"Got it." She smiled at him but tried to keep focused. "What else did you bring me?"

He proceeded to show her the contents of the folder, one item at a time. There was a copy of Maia's latest piece for art class--an image of animals and plants merged into a bright, complex pattern. After that were her latest essay and poem followed by her mid-term grades. As they worked through Maia's things, she asked him about her daughter and managed to weave in questions about him and Tom and April. He tried to keep the conversation focused on Maia, but she managed to tease bits of information out of him, including some of what was going on at NTAC. Eventually, he made a passing comment about the case that must have resulted in his scar, and she had a sudden revelation that the tragic mark was indirectly her fault. If she hadn't left for Spain, Marco would not have become Tom's partner and wouldn't have nearly lost an eye in the line of duty. But she knew that was the same flawed logic that caused Maia guilt over all of this, so she pushed the thought aside. Still, the scar was a testament to the hardships he'd endured. While she had never been a particularly tender soul, she was possessed with the almost irrepressible urge to reach out and touch his face, to see how different it felt with the scar and beard.

"Is that why you grew a beard?" She hadn't planned on asking anything so personal, but she had wondered about it for some time.

One of his hands reached up for his chin but halted in mid-gesture and settled back to his knee. "I..." He shrugged. "One of the NTAC therapists suggested 4400s might relate to me better if I did. You know...because Collier has a beard."

She hadn't really considered the possibility that he'd had therapy, but she'd never really found out what had happened while she was away. Tom was always so tightlipped about it. Still, it made sense.

"Does it help?"

"Yeah." He nodded with a self-conscious smile. "I think it does."

"I'm not sure it suits you, though."

"That's what my grandmother says," he laughed, but there was little humor behind it.

Although she tried to smile at his attempt, they ended up sharing a long, thoughtful gaze. She could see he was trying to hold something back, so she helped him out by looking back at the papers on the table. "So...anything else for me?"

"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot." Looking over, she saw him dig into a pocket. "Maia started crochet."

He pulled out a handful of yarn and accidentally dropped it. They both reached for it, nearly bumping their heads together then laughing at each other. For that moment, they were comfortable, like they used to be before Blink. Usually so careful about watching the eyes of the person he was talking to, his gaze betrayed him by slipping briefly to her lips.

She leaned forward, intent on his mouth, but he pulled back, brow furrowing. "Diana, what are you doing?"

Tilting her head, she couldn't help but grin. "Was I not obvious enough?"

"No." He shook his head. "I mean yes. But...why?"

Why? "Because I want to."

"Because you want to?" It was a quiet mixture of awe, trepidation and disbelief.

"You don't?"

He leaned further away and raised a hand in a resigned gesture. "When has what I want ever entered into anything?" He spoke as though it were a fact he thought she should be aware of, but there was no bitterness, just amused curiosity tinged with hurt.

She'd never really thought about it that way. Sadly, he wasn't wrong, but how could he find it amusing? "Marco..."

"I'm sorry, Diana, but I can't do this."

"It would've been just a kiss..." But she knew it was a lie as soon as she'd said it.

"For you, maybe, but...not for me." He said it with a shrug and a smile that didn't go past his lips. "It's tough enough balancing caring for Maia and about you without...getting tangled in how things were and might have been. Adding friendship with benefits into the mix..." Shaking his head, again, he looked away, but she thought she caught a glimpse of dread in his eyes.

"Why would we have to be just friends?"

That got her wide-eyed shock, all attempts at false humor and careful handling forgotten. "How can you expect me to invest any part of myself in something you've determined has no future? I barely made it through the end of our _last_ relationship. I can't be your rebound guy." His watch beeped and he gave it a quick glance while shutting it off. "I have to pick up Maia." Standing, he didn't meet her gaze as he headed toward the door. Whether he was ashamed of his outburst, afraid to see her reaction or simply desperate to be away from her, she couldn't tell. "Goodbye, Diana."

There was nothing she could do, and that sense of helplessness twisted in her gut. Helplessness had never been something she'd handled well, but now it was like a sudden fever running through her, making her weak and pitiful. Why would anyone want to be with someone like that? Feeling tears stinging the corners of her eyes, she looked down, unable to watch him walk out of her life. She was so very tired of regret and loss and tears.

"Marry me."

It took a heartbeat to realize the words were her own. With her gaze focused on her tightly clenched fists, she couldn't see his response. All she could hear above her suddenly loud pulse was the sound of the door closing. Shutting her eyes, defeat washed over her, leaving her trembling.

"Why would you say a thing like that to me?"

Snapping her head up, she found he was still in the room. His back was to her, shoulders hunched, a white-knuckled grip on the doorknob, but his voice held only the subtlest hint of the internal turmoil his body expressed. She was so amazed and relieved he was there that it took her a moment to react. "I..." Sounding pathetic, she cleared her throat and tried again. "While I've been...recovering, I've had a lot of time to think about everything." Snorting at the understatement, she clarified, "And I think I finally understand what happened to me while I was on Blink."

He remained with his back to her, but his head shifted at the mention of the dreaded drug that had brought an end to their relationship.

"I think the reason Josh appeared to me was because, deep down, I was afraid of having the same thing happen to me again."

At last, he turned with a furrowed brow and a wounded tone. "You think I could-"

"No." Shaking her head, she resisted the urge to stand and reach for his hand, choosing to smile at him, instead. "Of course not, but it's not as though people react rationally to the exposure of their deepest scars."

"Tom did all right."

It was a painful observation for her to hear, but she could see in his eyes he had switched from personal to scientific, that he was puzzling it out.

"Tom was dealing with something he'd done to someone else, not something someone had done to him. Recall what happened to Erica Lungren." Waving the tangent away, she continued, "The point is, I was afraid, and Blink exploited that fear. Then when Maia said I'd marry Ben..." Even from eight feet away, she could see Marco's pupils contract at the mention of his name. "It was as though I had a way around all that doubt, a guarantee."

He nodded in thoughtful consideration, and some part of her reveled in the fact that the man she'd always run her theories past seemed to agree with her logic. "But you can't try to fix the past, Diana. We all have to move forward." Again, he echoed one of the sentiments of her doctors, but this time it was slightly vexing.

"I know that." The agitation in her voice bothered her, so she took a breath. "But why can't we move forward together? I still need you."

His smile was consoling. "You don't _need_ anyone, except Maia."

"Fine, I _want_ you, then."

"No, you just want the idea of me, the convenience of me." Shrugging, he stuck his hands in his pockets, the way he did when he was distancing himself from something uncomfortable. "You prefer men who have qualities you feel you lack, older men who validate you. I'm too young, and we're too much alike." As he spoke, it was as though a gauzy film were being lifted from her perception of their relationship. He'd spent a lot of time thinking about it, too, but his insights seemed to offer more clarity than hers. "Plus, you don't perceive me as sophisticated or mature, so I can't give you the approval you're looking for." He shook his head with a sad, self-conscious smile. "You've never wanted me for who I am, and I doubt you ever will."

"I'm sorry." It wasn't the response she'd intended; it just came out automatically. There were a great many things she was sorry about when it came to Marco.

He shrugged, again, as though there was no need. "Thanks to you, I've realized that one-sided relationships don't work and that I deserve to have my feelings reciprocated."

"But...we're not those people anymore." She couldn't help but try to convince him. The need to do so was incessant and all but instinctive, and it made her wonder at herself. "Things have changed..."

"Not enough, not where this is concerned."

When she'd given him up, it had been like ripping off a band-aid--it had stung a bit, but she hadn't considered she might ever want him back. So it bothered her that, when faced with the idea she couldn't get him back, some subconscious, feminine sensibility was offended. "What can I say to convince you?"

"Look at yourself, Diana--look at where you are." His raised hands encompassed her gilded cage. "How would you react to this conversation if our roles were reversed?"

The answer was inescapable. "I'd question your judgment."

Stopping himself from defensively crossing them, he let his arms fall to his sides. "You need to concentrate on getting your life back in order."

"This _is_ a part of my life," she insisted.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, then he gave her a resigned smile. "Look, how about this? After you've been out of here for a while, if you still feel the same way, we can talk about it then."

"Really?"

He gave her a nod. "I'm not going anywhere." Glancing at his watch, he added. "...except to pick up Maia."

He turned to leave, and she felt too drained to get up and see him out the door. But she had the strength to say one, last, necessary thing, something she'd never really said to him, not with any conviction, anyway. "Thank you."

There was a hint of surprise in his eyes as he glanced back at her.

She held the photo of Maia against her chest. "For everything."

A myriad of subtle emotions crossed his face, but all he said was, "Sure." This time, his smile reached his eyes.

After her whirlwind romance with Ben and her intense addiction to his influence, a smile was a small thing in comparison. But as she sat there, gazing at her daughter's school picture, she began to feel the tiniest bit of normal. Thanking Marco had been like some hidden psychic hurdle, and his acceptance felt like a salve on the still raw wounds of her heart and mind. He was right. No matter how much the chemicals in her brain were telling her she needed a replacement for Ben, she didn't need a man in her life, but having people she could lean on...that was what really mattered. Accepting and appreciating she had such people...that was what would see her through.


	7. Chapter 7

SPOILERS: through season three

NOTES: Thank you for all the reviews! And again, thank you, PurpleYin, for the beta! _Please, no mention of season four spoilers in reviews._

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

* * *

DESK, EPILOG 

As Tom had predicted, Diana got to spend all of Thanksgiving with Maia, though she was still in the hospital. It was nice. Not only did she get to relax in the guest lounge with Maia and April, she didn't have to shop, cook or clean. They watched a movie and played Monopoly. Maia won.

By Christmas, Diana was back at home with Maia in the apartment. It was a bit sad for Maia to go from three parents to one, but April, Tom and Marco made time to visit with Maia and to help Diana with her daughter's schedule. Her sister did the most, always willing to lend a sympathetic ear during the occasional bouts of depression Diana was still battling through. She hadn't felt so close to April since they were little. It was like a small yet invaluable blessing after a terrible storm.

Gradually, life began to get back to normal. In January, Diana returned to the virology lab and passed the field agent exams. After the truth had come out about Diana's resignation of her field agent status, Nina had told her the testing was unnecessary, but Diana had insisted. It was a way of proving to herself and her doctors that she was capable of doing it again. Marco had even convinced Nina to let him partner with Garrity so Diana and Tom could be partners, again. Garrity jokingly claimed his argument about wanting to maintain the advantage of being the prettiest partner had been the deciding factor in Nina's mind. Apparently he believed the prettier partner was less likely to get hurt. Marco contested that Garrity's girlfriend disliked the idea of him having a hot female partner.

Even though she had to wait a few weeks for the test results, life was looking up. Then Tom and Marco had a really bad day. She'd heard about what had happened from the head pathologist who was examining the suspect's body. Apparently they'd come across a 4400 who controlled fire and was a drug addict on a bad trip. The woman had already burned half a dozen other agents, and Marco had been forced to shoot her in order to save Tom.

After a quick visit to the medical lobby, Diana learned that Tom had been shipped to the burn ward of a nearby hospital and would likely not be allowed visitors for several days. Since she couldn't offer her support to Tom, her thoughts naturally shifted to Marco.

Despite having come to the understanding that she didn't need a romantic relationship in her life, Diana had never been able to completely shake the lingering feelings of longing she experienced when she saw Marco. April had gone so far as to suggest their relationship had come full circle--that he was the reluctant one, while she had become the quiet, persistent pursuer. With that in mind, Diana couldn't be sure of the virtue of her motives as she headed to the office Marco and Tom still shared, but her memories of how she'd felt the day she'd taken the life of Jean Baker drove her onward.

The office blinds were open, and she could see Marco hunched over his keyboard. She hesitated at the door, and when he didn't notice her, she cleared her throat. "Hell of a day."

He looked up, as though surprised to find someone in the office, in his space. Scanning her eyes, his brow furrowed in confusion, but all he said was, "Yeah." Turning back to his monitor, he removed his glasses and massaged his forehead then rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Yeah."

Unsure, she stepped closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. His head shot up, and, for a brief moment, she saw the pain in his eyes before his gaze moved to his keyboard. He closed some files with one hand while distractedly returning his glasses to the bridge of his nose with the other.

"Wanna talk about it?"

Again, he gave her a confused look. Smiling grimly, he glanced away, tilting his head without moving his shoulder. "Tomorrow, I've got an appointment with a shrink for that."

Pulling her hand away, she sat on the edge of his desk. "I checked the records a long time ago--Dr. Dillon doesn't even have weapons training, and he's definitely never shot anyone."

That got her a hint of a genuine smile. "Yeah, I know; I was the one who dug up those files for you."

"I haven't forgotten."

Meeting her eyes, he seemed to really look at her for the first time since she'd walked in the room, his gaze clear of confusion and distraction. She could see it in his expression as he decided to quit guarding himself against her, of guarding her from himself. The honest need on his face caused her heart to ache and her pulse to speed up all at the same time. Pushing herself off his desk, she offered him a hand.

"Let me drive you home."

Briefly closing his eyes, misery washed over his face until he got himself under control. Opening his eyes, he took her hand and stood. "Okay."

It took every ounce of will not to pull him into a hug, no matter how much it looked like he could use one.

Not wanting to be alone, he asked to be taken to his sister's house. Along the way, he talked, and she listened, offering words of understanding when she could. It was such a small thing--driving and listening--yet she couldn't think of a time when she'd done anything more meaningful for him.

When they arrived, he didn't get out right away, as though his emotions were weighing him down. Giving in to impulse, she reached out and squeezed his nearest hand. "It'll get better."

He just kept staring out the window at his sister's front door, but he squeezed her hand in return. "Do you ever get over it?"

"No. But it gets better."

He turned to her, and she'd never seen him more vulnerable. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

There was relief and hope and gratitude in his eyes. After giving her hand another squeeze, he let go and focused on unbuckling his seatbelt. Then he drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, reminding her of one of the exercises the doctors had taught her. "Thanks," he said at last, before opening the car door and stepping onto the driveway.

She'd been hoping to have a meaningful moment with him, something to set them on a smoother track than the one they'd managed so far. While this was hardly the ideal, it was a start, and it was only fair that some small good come of the day. She waited until he was greeted by his brother-in-law at the door and invited in with warm acceptance. Then she pulled out of the driveway and headed home, satisfied that everything would work out as is should in the end.


End file.
